


On the Street, Under the Stars.

by presentpathos



Category: Hanna (2011)
Genre: F/F, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presentpathos/pseuds/presentpathos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowing her last name would have helped too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Street, Under the Stars.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/gifts).



**ANTH7008 - Man and Animals**

Hanna stumbled out of the amusement park clutching her wound. Marissa was dead. Her father was dead. Herr Grimm, dead; her grandmother, dead. There was no one left in the world for her.

She struggled back to Grimm's little house and fumbled around until she found a first aid kit. She bandaged herself quickly and efficiently, but she would need a hospital, there was no exit wound. As she looked around at the mess that had been made of Herr Grimm's strange little house she began to cry. She had been so awful to her father and now he was lying dead somewhere and she would never be able to apologize.

The tears stopped as quickly as they had started. Her father would not want her carrying on like that over a thing already done. She would go to the hospital, she would repair herself and she would find the last friend she had in the world.

If she still had her. Knowing her last name would have helped too.

 **POLS6008 - Gender and Politics**  
Months passed and Sophie had no idea what happened. If Hanna escaped, if she was caught, if she was killed. If that awful German caught her or that terrifying woman. She tried not to think about it, went back to school in the autumn, kissed some boys. Kissed more girls. But every time she caught sight of long blonde hair out of the corner of her eye she whipped her head around like one of those Russian dogs Mrs. Whitehead was always talking about.

Sophie started at college. She stopped kissing anyone and started doing homework. She began to think seriously about going to university and about what she would take there. Her parents were both pleased and bewildered. To everyone's surprise, especially her own, she gets admitted to UCL.

The first time she saw Hanna after that night, two years later, Sophie was just coming out of Introduction to Sociology, her least favourite module. She was sitting on the bench across from the lecture hall; just sitting and staring at the door, fully confident that Sophie would come walking out of the doors exactly when she expected her. Sophie was surprised, to say the least.

"Hanna!" She dropped her books on the staircase and ran across the 20 feet that separated them. "You're alive!" Sophie lept into Hanna's arms, tangling their bodies together. Hanna barely gave ground at the impact. "I can't believe you're still alive!"

Sophie could feel Hanna's breath against her ear. "Hello Sophie. Are you still my friend?"

Sophie wrapped her arms tighter around Hanna's neck. "Of course. I gave you a bracelet remember? I wouldn't break that promise."

Hanna sighed into Sophie's hair. "I am glad. I rather liked being your friend." Sophie loosened her grip around Hanna's neck and pushed herself slightly back to look up into Hanna's face.

"You're tall now. When did you get so tall? And you've dyed your hair. I rather like it, you look smashing as a ginger. It's hard to find, an attractive ginger, but you've managed to pull it off haven't you? You know who's a nice looking ginger? Scarlett Johanssen. Dead sexy is what she is. You're not quite as delicious, but still, attractive though, am I right?" Hanna stared at her. "That woman, Marissa whatever, she was a ginger, not an attractive one, rather a bitch she was, but a ginger. Is that why you dyed your hair? Are you friends now?”

Sophie willed herself to stop talking, but the words flooded out of her mouth in a torrent. “How did you find me? I never figured out how to find you. I googled you a couple of times, but nothing ever came up. Well, a strange car followed me for a couple of days, but nothing ever came of it. God, Sophie, stop talking.”

Hanna laughed loudly and Sophie decided she wanted to hear it more. Always.

Just then the skies opened, pouring a cold October rain down upon them. Sophie squealed and grabbed Hanna's hand, running for the shelter of the dorms. They ran, but it was far and the rain kept coming. Hanna laughed the entire way, making Sophie laugh with her.

Hanna had to carry Sophie on her back the last hundred yards. She was breathless and laughing and so beautiful it made her head spin. She let Sophie down to unlock the various doors and then they were in an elevator.

Sophie looked up at her, breathing hard from their dash.

Hanna returned her gaze, steady and unblinking.

“Oh fuck it,” Sophie whispered. She took Hanna's face in her hands and kissed her, hard and deep. The rainwater was cool but her skin was warm beneath it. She pressed Hanna against the door, kissed her hungrily, her tongue agile and expert. Sophie's breasts pressed against hers, nipples erect with cold rain and desire. One leg pressed between her thighs. Her hands slid down to Hanna's waist, under her tank top, craving skin. Hanna wound her hands around Sophie's neck, kissing her back.

It was exhilarating.

“Oh my God,” Sophie murmured, breaking the kiss. Her open mouth slid along Hanna's throat, tasting her skin. Her hands slid upward. “You feel so fucking good.”

They they struggled to part when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. They rushed to the shelter of Sophie's room, hands reaching and caressing the entire way. A boy saw them and promptly walked into a door. Hanna smiled at him.

Finally, when Hanna was sure she was going to have to press Sophie to the wall and _do things_ to her right there in the hall Sophie stopped and unlocked another door. She tugged her into a small room, decorated with posters, two desks and the detritus of two young females occupying one small space.

“Home sweet home,” Sophie said, dropping her soaking wet bag on the floor and looking around the room. Hanna can tell she's suddenly nervous. “Do you have bags somewhere? A change of clothes? I might have some things around that you can fit into, you skinny bitch.”

Hanna shrugged. She hadn't any clothes, she never did. When she needed clothes she bought replacements. Or stole them. She wouldn't tell Sophie that though, she wouldn't understand. Instead of answering she pushed up against Sophie and kissed her hard on the mouth.

It had the desired effect. Sophie kissed back, wrapping her hands around Hanna's neck and pulling them both towards her bed.

“C'mere,” Sophie said, falling back onto it, pulling Hanna atop her. “Oh, fuck yes!” She yanked open the buttons of Hanna's top, sank one hand deep into her hair and grabbed her arse with the other, reclaiming her mouth and wriggling urgently underneath her. “Hanna, more, I want more of you.”

“More,” Hanna agreed.

“Mmm,” Sophie thrust against her, beneath her, hands urging her. “Hanna. Right there. Like that.”

Hanna's hands wrapped around Sophie's thighs and she gasped as she gripped her tightly, spreading her open, pressing up with her hands, searching, she doesn't know for what until she felt dampness, slippery, and Sophie's gasping, crying out and Hanna knew she was doing something right, her hips jerking uncontrollably under Hanna's hands and her fingers slide inside and it's warm and tight, and she moaned while Sophie cried out and then a warm mouth is clamped around her nipple, it hurts a little, her teeth scrape against taut skin and Hanna jerks forward and makes noises like she's never made before.

Hanna moved her hand around a little and suddenly Sophie cried out, groaning Hanna's name into her pillow. She pulled away, gasping and smiling like Hanna's never seen before.

"Hanna." Sophie panted out. "Jesus." She reached languidly for Hanna and pulled her down into a kiss. She kissed down the column of Hanna's neck, sucked gently on her collar down before kissing a trail down her chest and belly. Hanna doesn't understand what's happening, what Sophie is doing until she spreads her legs and Sophie's mouth is on her and her tongue brushes against her and oh. Oh.

It was what Hanna imagined riding a wave would be like, but a wave of sheer pleasure, powerful and overwhelming. For the first time in her life she didn't feel wholly in control of her body. She moved, couldn't stop moving, driven and relentless.

When Sophie woke up the next morning Hanna was gone. The side of the bed where she slept was still warm. Sophie decided she must have gone to the loo. But there was no noise and eventually enough time passed that Sophie realized she was gone.

She saw a note propped against her make-up mirror atop her desk. Reluctantly she got up to read it.

 _Dear Sophie,_ it said. _I will be be back. Love, Hanna._

Sophie crumpled the paper in her one hand and wiped angry tears from her eyes. She thought last night that Hanna was back for good. That they would be friends, and maybe they would make out sometimes. Sophie could help her get into university or something. She was certain to pass any sort of test they put in front of her. Now she was gone again.

The tears wouldn't stop coming so Sophie stopped resisting. She flopped onto her bed with a sob and didn't get up for the rest of the day. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, it was just one night.

 **ESPS2102 - The Politics of European Integration**  
Weeks later Sophie was sitting in another pointless lecture when it suddenly occurred to her what Hanna had meant by resolved. It was too awful to think about. She still saw the image sometimes, behind her eyes or in her dreams, Hanna slicing that boy to pieces to save her. She knew what resolve meant, but she wasn't sure she wanted any part of a girl who would kill her way out of any problems life threw her way.

She wasn’t superstitious or anything, but it seemed a great coincidence when Hanna was sitting on her bed when she got home that day.

“Hanna!" There was a large bruise on one cheek and when she stood Sophie could tell that Hanna was in pain. "What are you doing here?"

“I'm," Hanna's eyes flitted around the room. She looked, Sophie realized, nervous. She'd never looked nervous before. "I didn't know where else to go."

“Oh." It sounded so pathetic Sophie wasn't sure what to say. "Well, it's nice to see you, but I have homework this evening."

“I, um, I will go then." Hanna made for the door and Sophie moved away to let her pass through it. Their hands brushed on the way by, before she pulled completely away.

Hanna walked out the door, again, and this time Sophie watched her go.

She tried to do homework, but found it impossible to care about the idealist versus the realist schools of international relations, her thoughts kept turning back to Hanna and how she had looked when she was here.

Another hour went by before she finally gave up. "Ugh. Fucking girls," she said to no one. She slammed her books closed and decided to retire to the pub, where she would undoubtedly find her roommate and maybe a few passing friends.

Of course Hanna was sitting on a bench in the middle of the quad.

“You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were stalking me." Sophie said lightly. Hanna just stared back. "You know, hanging around outside my building at all hours? Appearing in my locked dorm room when I'm not home. Stealing my roommates clothes."

Hanna blushed at the last. "I am sorry. Mine were dirty."

Sophie sighed. "Oh Hanna. What are we going to do with you?"

Hanna shrugged.

This was too much for her to handle with out alcohol in her hand. “Look. I was about to go down the way and meet some people at the pub. Would you like to come with?”

Hanna nodded and so they set out.

"Where did you go? After that night?" Sophie asked as the walked down the road.

"I had things to take care of." Hanna tried to take her hand, but she pulled away. "There are dangers to me still. I must take care of them."

"You could disappear, couldn't you?"

"I did that once. Or my father did. I want to be in the world. I want to have friends. I want--" You. She didn't say it.

"These dangers, what are they? Am I in danger?" A dark look crossed Sophie's face. "Is my family?"

Hanna didn't say anything, just stared back.

"Hanna, is my family in danger?"

"I do not think so. I think they do not know about them. Or about you." She reached again for Sophie's hand, this time she let her take it. "I am very careful coming and going. Mostly they think I am in Germany. Or Sweden. Where I fit in better."

 **ESPS2103 - Political Violence and Intrastate Conflicts**  
This was the last house. Down there was the last man who knows she exists. His name was Mr. Lewis, but that was an alias. She did not care what his real name was. She had stalked him across half the world, watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. It had come.

There were six men in the room. Five of them were obviously soldiers, one of them was clearly not. Hanna examined them from her perch in the rafters. Two were by the door, standing watch. One was standing right beside the man who was clearly not a fighter and the other two were patrolling the room, in what she supposed was meant to be a random path but wasn't.

Hanna had two guns and a knife. The guns were both USP Compacts, six rounds apiece. They had been her father's; good guns and reliable. The knife was “a just in case” thing. Six men, two bullets each. She will have enough ammo, but she can't miss a single shot.

Whatever the man with glasses was doing at the computer is taking longer than the guards planned for. The door guards had started talking to each other instead of watching the door. The bodyguard was staring at the screen, not looking around the room. The two patrolling were taking longer and longer to complete their routes. She liked it when the enemy loses his edge. Hanna heard her father's voice in her head while she waited.

“When you can, attack as close to possible at four in the morning. Everyone is at their weakest at four. The KGB taught me that. Hit fast, hit hard, hit early.”

She waited ten more minutes. It was precisely 4am when she struck. All six men were in the same room, not really paying attention to each other. The first to die was one of the doormen, two bullets through the chest. Next was one of the patrol guards, his neck snapped by the angle of Hanna's impact with his body. His partner took one bullet to the throat and one under the arm, straight through to the lung.

The second door guard and the man by the computer had both moved, were moving, in opposite directions. Hanna tracked them both and dropped them simultaneously, one with either gun. They sprawled just out of reach of the sat phones she imagined were their destinations.

As she turned back towards the table she felt a tug across her hip, followed by a bloom of pain. Spinning and screaming she was shocked to see the guard with the bullet in his throat holding a knife in one limp hand. She shot him in the face.

There was one man left. He was still sitting at his table, seconds having elapsed since she fell from the sky. “Mr. Lewis?” The man nodded. She thought they were all called Mr. Lewis, but did not care if they weren't. “You should stop looking for me Mr. Lewis.”

“Hanna.” He was trembling. “We want to help you. We want to help you.”

She stepped forward and he flinched. “I am leaving. Do not follow me. Do not come for me. I do not want your help.” She reached forward, snapping his laptop closed. “And leave Sophie alone.” She drove the point home by putting two remaining bullets in the hard drive of his machine.

 **PHIL3031 - Global Justice and Health**  
Hanna had been gone for four months. It was unusual for her to be gone this long, and it scared Sophie to no end when it happens. Hanna had been popping in and out of her life for three years and the longest she'd ever disappeared was after she found her the first time. But now she's been gone for four whole months. Sophie was trying not to freak out, she didn’t go running down the stairs every time the doorbell rings, she didn’t let her disappointment come through every time she picks up a phone and it's not Hanna.

She was desperately afraid that Hanna might not be coming back; and forced herself not to think of all the things that could have gone wrong that were out of her hands. Instead the mean time she occupied herself with thoughts of things that could go wrong that were. Things like how down her roommate would be with an assassin hanging out with them on cheesy movie night, or coming down to the pub for a pint. Not to mention the inevitable “Mum, remember that lovely German girl who almost got us killed that time in Spain? Well she found me after months of searching and once I got used to the idea that her only employable skill was killing people, well, we started shagging. A lot.” It's a conversation she's imagined many times, and it never ends happily.

As she walked in the door the first thing she thought was, Oh, Hanna must be back. The second was Fucking hell, where'd all this blood come from?

“Hanna! Shit! There's blood everywhere!”

Hanna was standing in front of the full length mirror nailed to their bathroom door. She appeared to be trying to stitch closed a ragged hole in her shoulder. It did not appear to be going well. She did this all the time, tried to stitch her own wounds, set her own breaks, it's ridiculous really.

“I can lose 3 pints of blood before it negatively effects my ability to function. My best guess is I have lost less than 250ml here.” Hanna stopped trying to sew herself together and looked around the room.

“I didn't say that. I don't care about how much blood you lost, I care that it's all over my fucking room! Kate could here any second, and you've got blood all over the floor.” Sophie reached for the needle and thread in Hanna's hands. “Your not even using the right needle you bollocksing git.” She angrily rooted through her drawer for the right needle while continuing to yell at Hanna. “This needle is for sewing buttons on to shirts, I mean, look at it Hanna, it's straight and twice as thick as the suture needle. Do you even pay attention when I'm doing this?”

When she turned around Hanna's hair was hanging down, obscuring her face. “I'm sorry Sophie. Are you very angry with me?”

Oh. “No, Hanna no,” Sophie reached across the small distance, brushed Hanna's hair from her face. “I'm not mad at you at all. You've been gone for months though, and you didn't send me any postcards and I didn't know where you were, and I kept reading all these newspapers and so many bad things happen to girls who sound like you, did you know that? All the terrible things that happen to girls seem to happen to blonde girls, I never knew if any of them were you and it was scary. I got scared.”

“Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate.” Hanna recited it like it was part of a creed. “Hate leads to suffering.”

“Hanna,” The anger drained right out of her. “You do know that Star Wars isn't an actual religion right?”

Hanna cocked her head to one side. “Isn't it?”

This isn't a conversation she wanted to have again. Instead Sophie sat and sewed Hanna's wound closed. Hanna was right, of course, it wasn’t that bad, a long knife slash across her hip, more bloody than damaging. Sophie finished the stitching and leaned back to admire her handiwork. She's no doctor, but it would have to do.

“There,” she placed a quick kiss on Hanna's stitches, “all done.”

The bleeding had absolutely ruined Hanna's top though. “You've ruined your clothes.” She paused to look up at Hanna. “Again.”

“There was a man with a knife where there ought not to have been a man with a knife.”

Of course there was. “Hanna, you should,” You should stop. You should stop this and go to school. You should stop and stay with me forever. You should go away and never come back. “You should be more careful. “

This was a thing she never thought she'd have to know: How to stitch closed a knife gash. It's a thing she learned though. One of many things Hanna has taught her in the short time she's been back. She's terrible at it, she knows that, but it's better than seeing Hanna try to do it herself with a darning needle and whatever string she's sees lying around when she needs it.

“Do you have any clothes here? I don't remember.” Sophie peeled the bloody shirt over Hanna's head, careful not to disturb her handiwork. Hanna shook her head in response. “Okay. I should have some...” She trailed off as she rooted around in her drawer.

“Here,” she thrust a pair of faded jeans towards Hanna, “these should fit. They're, um, kind of tight on me.” Sophie continued to rustle through her things until she found a pink striped camisole. She turned around just as Hanna kicked her dirty trousers free of her ankles. Sophie flushed. “This, um, should fit too.” She watched while Hanna quickly slipped into the trousers and then the shirt. “Cute. You look good in my clothes.” She traced the line of Hanna's collarbone. “You're awfully thin babe. Should I steal you some food from the halls?”

Hanna stood before her, trousers in one hand, camisole in the other, blushing. “I am too skinny?”

Sophie traced her finger across Hanna's collarbone again, continuing down the side of her torso, careful to avoid the fresh stitches. Hanna shivered as she did so. “No, I think,” Sophie pushed two fingers just below the waist band of her panties, pulling Hanna into her chest, kissing her softly on the mouth, “you're prefect just the way you are.”

They fell onto Sophie's bed. Hanna kissed a trail from Sophie's forehead to her mouth, held her down and kissed her hard and deep until Sophie made an inarticulate sound of pleasure.

Sophie felt cool hands on the hot skin of her back. Hanna's hands slipped up her shirt, toying gently with her nipples. But Sophie was a little angry and a lot horny, she roughly pushed Hanna's hands away, grabbed her shirt and yanked it over her head. Hanna gasped as Sophie pushed her back onto the bed, straddling her hips and dove back down to her lips. Sophie kissed her way down Hanna's neck to her breast, using her tongue first against one, then the other. They pushed against each other, hips rocking against hips, astride thighs. Hanna pushed up, forcing Sophie to lean back. She kept leaning back, grabbing Hanna's hand and pulling her forward as she falls away from her. She was spread wide and Hanna landed between her thighs hard enough to hurt. They both grunt at the impact and then Sophie was pulling again, claiming Hanna's mouth for her own.

Hanna pulled away from Sophie's mouth and smiled. She slid down the bed, down Sophie's body and she watched Hanna's lips on her, watched the tip of her tongue leave a shiny wet trail on her skin; watched as her lips brushed the very tops of her thighs and watched as her tongue worked her wide open. The sight of Hanna's tongue on her clit registered before the sensation. But when the sensation hit she cried out.

Hanna's good, she fucked with abandon, her hands and mouth everywhere and nowhere. Sophie felt her in a dozen different places at the same time. On her breasts, against her clit, inside her, at her throat, nibbling on her ears. She was lean and quick and Sophie couldn't get enough of her.

Before she knew it her whole body clenched tight and released itself. She rode Hanna's body to a quick second orgasm and collapse, boneless, onto the mattress.

Hanna wrapped her strong arms around her. They kissed softly.

Sunlight spilled through the window, spilled warmth over their bare skin. It hadn't been that long. Four months. Barely worth noticing. But it was even better than her dreams—better deeper, more. Soft and slick and tender, hard and urgent. They made love for hours, pausing, never stopping, until Hanna suddenly fell asleep, one hand on Sophie's breast, the other tangled in her hair.

They were quiet in the aftermath, lying entwined in a tangle of shed clothing and flannel sheets. Sophie lay with her head pillowed on one arm, gazing at Hanna, tracing the curve of her cheek over and over.

“Memorizing me?” Hanna asked softly.

“Yeah.” Sophie's smile didn't meet her eyes.

“I wish--”

“I know.” Sophie kissed her. “Hush, baby.”

Hanna's stomach growled. “Sophie?”

“Hmmm?”

“I'm starving.”

 **ESPS7402 - Political Theories of Self-government**  
Hanna and Sophie were having a quiet lie in. It was Saturday morning, the day after her final bit of course work had been completed. Exams all sat. In a few short weeks she'd be an official degree holding graduate.

Hanna was lying with her head resting on Sophie's chest, listening to her heartbeat and enjoying the warmth of late spring. Sophie murmured idle nothings into her hair. She loved the quiet of just lying with Hanna, nothing between them, nothing to do.

When the front door opened and she heard her mum's voice shout out she almost had a heart attack. She jerked up in bed, knocking Hanna's head into her lap. She didn't even think before answering, “Be out in a second mum!”

Why was the door opening? Her mother didn't sound—fuck.

Her mother stared in stunned silence at Sophie, naked from the waist up, and Hanna, her head still lodged in Sophie's lap.

"Mum!" Sophie scrambled to pull the blanket back over their bodies.

"Fucking hell, Mum, shut the bloody door!"  
   
"OH!" Her mum stared in horror at the scene in front of her, "oh shit, Sophie, I'm so sorry. I should have knocked, really I should have, but I thought you'd be--" 

"Mum. The door." Her mum gestured apologetically on her way back through the door, slamming it harder than necessary. Sophie fell back against her mattress, unable to decide if she should laugh, cry or hurl. Hanna's head popped up from under the sheets. 

"I do not think she saw me." Hanna whispered. "I should go." 

"Go? Go bloody where? She's right outside the only door." 

Hanna looked up Sophie with wide, serious eyes. "I can slip out the window. I've done it before. Rooms never have only one exit." 

"No. Hanna, no. This is ridiculous. We've been...doing whatever for three years. You practically live with me. You've met all my university friends. I'm done keeping it a secret. You're in my life. It's time for them to know." 

Hanna smiled. It was so rare, still, for Hanna to smile completely that Sophie

Sophie opened the door of her room to find her mother still standing in the hall way. She felt she ought to at least have the good grace to be embarrassed, but as usual, she was not.   "Mum."  

"Sophie. I'm sorry I interrupted," she paused "you and your friend." 

"Hello Rachel." Hanna, at least, had the good sense to look mildly sheepish.  

"Hanna! My god. Where did you come from?"  

"Leipzig." Sophie smiled at the joke.  

"Sophie. You're..." she trailed off into bewildered silence.  

Hanna reached for Sophie's hand and squeezed it supportively. "We are girlfriends." 

"Oh. Well. Oh." Rachel's hand went to her chest. "I'm not sure, are those people still after you? That awful woman?" Realization dawned on her face, she looked at Sophie. "Are you in danger?" 

"There are no people looking for me." Hanna stared right into Rachel's eyes.

"I have taken care of them. My father and I. He is dead now." 

"She said he murdered--" 

Hanna cut her off. "She lied. Marissa Weigler. She lied to you. She killed my mother. And my father." 

"And now she's..." No one finished the sentence.  

"Well. Hanna. It's wonderful to see you again. That you are okay. Sophie. Your father and I would like to speak with you please. Outside. 10 minutes?"

Hanna and Sophie ducked back into the room. Sophie started giggling, Hanna stared at her.

"Sophie, what is so funny?"

"I don't really know." Giggles had turned to hiccups. "I think that went as well as could be expected, don't you?"

"I don't really know. She didn't seem happy to see me. I thought your mother liked me."

“For a killing machine bred to experience less empathy than normal people, you sure are concerned with who likes you and how much, aren't you?”

"Sophie!" Hanna grew pink in the face.

"Oh god. I'm sorry Hanna, really I am. That wasn't at all how I wanted my mother to find out about you. I'm just tense is all." She pulled Hanna to her, kissed her gently on the lips. "Sorry babe."

She pulled a jumper over her head and fumbled about for a pair of trousers. “I think it would be better if you waited here okay?”

Hanna nodded. Sophie turned from the door she was about to exit and grabbed Hanna with both hands, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

“I love you.”

Then she went outside to see how the rest of this disaster would unfold.

"Sophie." Her mum and dad were both leaning against their car. "Were you ever planning on telling us?"

"I was." Sophie looked down the pavement. "Eventually."

"It's not that it's a girl you understand, we have no problem with that. You love who love and that's beautiful. I spent some time as a lesbian in the mid-90s you know? A punk-rock bassist and I..."

"Mum! Disgusting!"

"Really, Rachel," her father piped up from the driver's side, "not the time to relive old passions."

"Right. Anyway, darling, it's not that she's a woman. It's that she's that woman. Darling, you do remember Lyons don't you? I've always felt we barely escaped with our lives from those nasty little Germans."

"We forbid you from seeing her."

Was he kidding? She was twenty-two years old. She had just finished university. She had a sweet internship lined up at the Foreign Office.

"You're kidding right?" Sophie glared at her father but he didn't back down for once. "Mum, he's kidding right?"

Her mother shrugged. "We can't forbid you, obviously, but Sophie. She's very dangerous. Do you really think it's the best thing for you? I'm sure there are plenty of exciting young women in London who'd be happy to date you."

"Fuck that." Sophie was beyond livid. "You seriously think I'm going to chuck Hanna over because you think she's dangerous? You don't know fucking anything. She's no more dangerous than you are. Less probably, she doesn't think she knows everything about fucking anything. You can both go to hell. Hanna has been my girlfriend for two bloody years! You never even asked. You don't know anything about her!"

"Soph, you told us, she killed that boy in Lyons. She's had a very violent upbringing. People don't just change like that."

“That was years ago mum! It's completely different now, really." Sophie reached for words that will reassure her mother. "She works at the Bridgehead cafe now. She pours coffee. There are no Germans. No Americans. There's no one..." She stopped. This was dangerous territory. Dangerous for Hanna.

"There's no one who what darling?" Her father asked.

Sophie caught her mother's eye in the rear view mirror and stared hard.

"Oh."

"Oh what?" Her father, always a little out of the loop with them.

Sophie pleaded silently with her mother to intervene. She did.

"Never mind now." She turned back to Sophie. "Works at Bridgehead?"

"Yes. And paints." Her mother will like that. "Hanna wouldn't hurt anyone." Who didn't have it coming. "She's well past that now. She's coming to London with me. We're getting a flat. I found her a job at a place near my office. Working with at risk kids. Playing games and that. Do you know she can speak half a dozen languages? I bet you didn't."

“That's not the point at all darling. No one is denying she's a special girl. But darling, be reasonable."

"No. No I won't be reasonable. Be reasonable means do what you tell me. I'm not doing that. Hanna is in my life. I love her. You can accept that or you can go."

Her parents looked at each other. Their entire conversation took place with their eyes, she could follow it perfectly.

This was it then. They were actually going to make her choose.

"You can't ask me to choose."

"We're sorry darling, really we are," her father refused to look at her, "but we simply can't tolerate having a killer in our midst."

"That's a fucking awful thing to say." Sophie could hear the rising pitch of her voice.

"That's an awful thing to say. Hanna has never hurt anyone who didn't pose a threat to someone, herself or me. Or you. Ungrateful cunts."

"Sophie...Don't be like this. We just want what's best for you."

"No. What's best for me is her. You would know that if you'd pull your head out of your asses sometimes, check in with your only fucking daughter sometimes!" She wasn't sure how to stop yelling. "But no, you'd rather fuck off to Majorca and paint sunflowers or some goddamn thing. Go lecture in Bern. Whatever it was you were doing before you showed up today. Important I bet.

“You never came to visit, not once the whole time I was here. It's not even that fucking far, you're just selfish twats! Hanna's been here. She's made me soup when I'm sick. She caught the mouse we had last year. She sorted Kate's boyfriend out when he wouldn't stop calling."

Her parents looked stricken. Maybe, she thought, she could win them over by shouting a lot. But suddenly their eyes hardened. She felt Hanna at her back. Always at her back.

"Hanna." Her father looked grim.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you. I care about Sophie a great deal. And there is no danger to her anymore. To anyone."

They didn’t look impressed.

"Sophie." Her mother was staring at her.

"No." They all knew what it meant. Her parents are leaving. She's staying with Hanna. She'll always stay with Hanna. Hanna will always stay with her.

 **Graduate Studies**

On Saturdays neither of them had to work. Sophie would sleep in for hours, lazily shuffling out of the bedroom hours after Hanna had first woke up. Hanna would pour her a cup of coffee, kiss her gently on the lips and wait patiently for her to achieve coherence. Then they would eat brunch.

Using Sophie's connections at the Foreign Office and her days at UCL Hanna established a charity for re-integrating child soldiers into civil society. It was modest, but the best of it's kind in Britain. Hanna insists on keeping it small so she knows the first name of everyone involved.

Some weeks the work gets to her, there are so many of them and she can't help them all but she tries so hard. On nights where she feels particularly defeated she does what she does best. She fights crime. There are people, always and everywhere, who think a slight woman in her mid-twenties is an easy target for all manner of nastiness. Hanna teaches them otherwise. The damage she does is never fatal, but often permanent.

Sophie pretends to understand, but Hanna knows she doesn't. She knows if Sophie ever leaves her, it will be the fighting that does it. Hanna wishes she could stop, spends all day telling children just like her they can lead normal, healthy lives, but she doesn't. Her father taught her six languages. Violence is a seventh and she worries that if she stops using it she'll forget it just when she needs it the most.

She reads the paper, steals police reports, talks to people in the know. She knows who the bad men are, where they are and what they do. The punishment always fits the crime.

There was a small grocery right around the corner from their apartment where everything was fresh and organic. They didn't shop there all the time, it was expensive, but Saturdays were special and deserved the best. She would pop out to the shop and pick up all the things Sophie secretly loved eating but protested against every Saturday morning.

Brunch is approached with the same well thought out precision that all other tasks are given. There's a pattern and a routine to it that Hanna finds soothing.

First she makes the pancake batter, because it has to sit the longest. She weighs the ingredients, it's more accurate. While the batter rests she starts the bacon. She fries it on a low setting, rendering most of the fat out over a slow period of time. Sophie prefers her bacon crispy and worries constantly about the size of her arse. Hanna doesn't understand this particular concern, it's a very fine looking bottom as far as she can tell. Nonetheless, bacon, cooked slow to extreme crispiness. After the batter has rested for precisely 18 minutes she turns the gas on under the griddle pan. She lets it warm for precisely three minutes on high and then adjusts it down. The batter is always enough for exactly six pancakes, four for her, two for Sophie. There is always some kind of fruit salad, consisting of exactly four fruits and berries. Fruit is always diced into cubes no larger than a raspberry. By the time the sixth pancake is done the bacon is also done. Sophie is a terrible coffee snob, so at the last minute Hanna makes her a double espresso from a machine they really can't afford.

No matter what time she starts making it, by the time breakfast is ready Sophie is awake and sitting at the table, already reading the front section of the Guardian. It is the first of four newspapers she will read that day. Hanna will read six.

As she does the dishes afterwards Hanna watches Sophie flip through the paper, absently scratch her nose and belch a single quiet belch. This is your life, she thinks to herself. This is why you flipped that switch. Make the most of it.

Then she will take Sophie back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Three very excellent betas looked at this; false_alexis fixed all the tenses, Katsaka made it look much more British and sinngrace tested the voices. Without them it would have been so much worse.


End file.
